


Bellamy Blake sucks at Ice-skating.

by Corvena



Category: Bellarke - Fandom, The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bellarke, Drabbles, F/M, The 100 - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 05:53:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3925303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvena/pseuds/Corvena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr Prompt:</p>
<p>"I’m having a shitty day but watching you slip on ice made me laugh and it was fine until I too slipped and fell and now we’re both sitting on the ground in pain and laughing" </p>
<p>No idea where I found it but I couldn't get over how adorable it sounded.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bellamy Blake sucks at Ice-skating.

“Griffin,” Raven grabbed her shoulders. “You need to come out and get drunk with me.”   
Her roommate had bugged her for the last hour. All Clarke wanted to do tonight was to sit on her bed and draw. Ignoring Raven, she kept her head down and scratched her pencils over and over into her art book. Raven let out an annoyed huff.  
“I get it,” she put her hands on her hips. “You've had the world's shittiest day and yes I can tell from the way you're murdering that book.”   
It's true. From the minute she woke up, nothing was going right for her. She was late to class, spilt coffee not only on herself but also her Art History presentation, lost her laptop, and not to mention today's date. Clarke felt like her feelings were entirely justified.  
“I need to be alone tonight-”   
“What you need is a couple of shots,” Raven retorted.  
Clarke dug so hard into the pages the paper began to tear. She groaned in frustration.   
“It's dead now,” Raven takes the art book from her hands. “Rest in peace,” she whispered placing it on Clarke's desk.   
“Raven,” she groaned.  
“Listen,” Raven insisted. “You, me, Jasper, Monty, and Wick at Munroe's.”   
“It's a costume party and we both know Jasper will wear something weird,” she grinned. “Which means: bets. Wick is going for food-themed while my money is totally on-”  
“Not tonight, Raven.” Clarke cuts her off. Before Raven got defensive, she apologised. “I'm sorry. I just really need to sit this one out.”   
“Okay,” she replies, unsure. “Just promise me that you'll leave this dorm room at least once,” She wrapped her into a hug.   
“Yes, Mum,” Clarke rolls her eyes and gives her a fond smile.  
“Yeah, that was weird,” Raven shakes it off and picks up her bag. “I'm off!”  
“Where's your costume?” Clarke asks before she leaves. Raven just smirks and shuts the door.

For a while Clarke just sits there, staring at nothing. She's usually not one for feeling sorry for herself. But today was rougher than usual. She looks at the date on her calendar. The 11th of May. Seven years ago her Dad died in a car accident. Her Mother was driving. For years she hated Abby. Clarke's stomach cramped with guilt. They're fine now but she still feels horrible for all the blame she threw her at her Mother. She misses her father as much as Clarke does. With a sudden idea, she tugs on her jacket and boots and heads out into the cold towards the ice-skating rink. When she was young her Dad would take her almost every weekend to teach her how to skate. She was terrible at it and he died before he could change that. 

 

\- 

 

After lacing up her skates she wobbles over to the ice. Clutching on to the side for dear life, she slowly makes her away around the rink. Why did she come here? Her Dad isn't here, he's dead. Today is still awful and slipping on ice and breaking her neck isn't going to make her day any better.   
“This was a dumb idea,” she mumbles to herself.   
“This is a stupid idea,” a guy grunts ahead of her. From the back she sees that he's tall, dressed in all black, olive-skinned with a dark mess of curls. Like her, he is hugging the wall for balance. A pretty girl, who looks the same age as Clarke, skids to a stop next to him like a professional.   
“You're bad at this, big brother” she laughs, sounding surprised. “I thought you said you were good at everything.” She skates backwards in front of him.  
“I AM good at everything,” he growled.   
“Apparently not,” the girl sings back. She gives him one last smirk and glides away.  
“Octavia,” he hissed. “Get back here!”  
Clarke lets out an unexpected giggle. At the sound he turns around, still holding on to the wall.   
“You think that's funny, Princess?” he fumed.  
“Yes, I do,” she grinned.   
Now that she could see his face, she studied him further. He had a grumpy looking face with an adorable sprinkle of freckles across his nose. The ironic thing was that, he looked athletic but was stumbling across the ice like a newborn giraffe. The thought made her laugh again.   
“Hey! I-” his foot slips in front of him and he waves his hands in the air for a solid two seconds before crashing backwards on to the ice. Clarke lets out a loud cackle. She keeps laughing and laughing until she has tears in her eyes. She begins to cough but let's go of the wall which sends her sprawling on the ground with him. They look up at each other and erupt into laughs together. He's rubbing his elbow, her ass is sore. and Clarke is pretty sure they both have concussions. Yet they giggle together like they've known each other forever. For the first time today she smiled. And it is all because of this uncoordinated and super attractive idiot on the ground next to her.   
“Clarke,” she holds out her hand to him.   
“Bellamy,” he replies with a crooked smile. 

 

\- 

 

They end up together in a booth of the café connected to the rink. Facing each other, they hold their coffees. She takes hers with milk and sugar. He takes his black. Figures.   
“So, you don't skate much?” he asked, sipping his drink.   
“Actually, I was in the Olympics” she deadpanned. He choked on his coffee.   
“What about you?” she continued. “You looked like you were having fun.”  
“Ha,” Bellamy rolled his eyes. “You're hilarious.” He takes another gulp of his coffee. “It wasn't my idea. This isn't my... thing.” he said, beginning to rub his neck.  
“Yeah, that's pretty obvious,” she sipped her drink.  
“Octavia, my sister, wanted to skip our friend's party,” he explained. “And she's never been ice-skating before so,”  
“What,” Clarke's mouth dropped open. “She,” pointing out towards the rink where Octavia pulls off a graceful spin. “Has never been ice-skating before?”  
“We Blake siblings are naturally talented,” Bellamy rested his elbows on the table.  
“Says the guy who just fell on his ass,” she replies with eyebrows raised.   
“You can talk,” he throws back.   
“If I wasn't distracted by your-”   
“You find me distracting?”  
“Nope,” she replied. “Just your lack of coordination.” They're flirting. Clarke liked it. Even though he was a little infuriating.  
“I don't do,” he lets out a weary sigh. “Ice-skating.”   
“Giving up so soon?” Clarke crosses her arms.   
“Is that a challenge?” Bellamy crosses his arms.  
“It is,” she juts out her chin.   
They both rush to retrieve their skates and tie them up fast. Absently, she realises she hasn't felt sad for over an hour. Bellamy and Clarke stagger on to the rink and they both grab hold on to the side with a new sense of determination.   
“First to-” they both begin.   
“First to the gate on the other side.” Clarke dictated.   
“Fine with me, Princess.”  
“Go!” she booms and pushes off from the wall.   
Dodging other skaters, they fumble their way across the rink. Bellamy tugs Clarke behind him and she almost topples over.  
“No cheating!” she calls out.  
“There's no rules here,” he smirks over his shoulder.   
Half-way across the rink, Octavia glides over to him.   
“Bell,” she stops in front of him. “You made it off the wall!”   
“Yep,” he rushed. “I'm in the middle of-”   
“Did you see my spin before?”   
“Yep,” he watches Clarke wobble past. She waves goodbye with a wink.   
“I nailed it!” she gushed.  
“O, I'm proud of you but now,” Bellamy points to the blonde making her way over to the gate. “I need to kick that girl's ass.”  
She rolls her eyes and speeds off.  
Bellamy makes up time and when they're both three metres away they lunge for the wall.   
“I won,” They boast together, gripping the wall.  
“I did,” Clarke protested, out of breath.  
“Pretty sure, I did.”  
“No.”   
“Yes.”  
“Can we please get off this ice first?” She complained. Bellamy couldn't agree more and they headed off to the benches to untie their skates, while debating the entire time.  
“Why can't you just admit that I won?” he asked her.  
“Because you didn't,” she pointed out. Not matter how pretty he was, she wouldn't allow herself to give in.  
“Are you always this stubborn?” He smiled a crooked grin. She noticed he had a scar above his lip. Not that she was looking at his lips.   
Clarke's phone began to ring and she looked down at the screen. It's Raven. She bites her lip. “Sorry, I need to take this,” she jumps up and hides in the hallway, sliding her finger across the screen.   
“Hey,” she says, leaning against the wall.   
“Clarke,” a slurred voice answers. “Everybody, it's Clarke!” Raven calls off the phone. In response a group of drunks cheer.  
“Yes, it's Clarke” she rolled her eyes and smiled.   
“Come drink with us,” Raven begged on the phone. “I lost the bet against Wick and I'm not dealing with it well.” She hiccuped.  
“What did Jasper wear?”  
“A fucking Hot Dog costume,” Raven grumbled. “What are you doing?”   
“I'm at the ice-skating rink and... I met someone,” Clarke blurted out the last of her words. Regardless, Raven will be too drunk to remember this tomorrow.  
“Is he hot?”   
“Yeah, he's hot.”   
“Then why did you call me?” Raven asked. She hangs up.   
“So, you think I'm hot?” his voice questioned her from behind.  
“I like how you assume that I'm talking about you,” she countered, turning around.   
“Aren't you?”   
“Nope.”  
“Are you sure?” he asks stepping closer to her.   
“Completely,” she replied, standing her ground.   
“Really?” an eyebrow raised, he stepped even closer.  
“Yeah,” she breathed. “By the way, I totally won befor-”   
He cuts her off with a kiss. The built-up tension bursts out of the both of them and they clutch at each other, their kisses are clumsy and rushed. They push each other against the walls of the hallway, exploring skin with their mouths.   
Someone coughs too loud to be unintentional and they both remember where they are.   
Octavia is in the hallway and gives a small wave.   
“I so didn't need to see that,” she says.   
Clarke's face burns with embarrassment as she tugs her top down and runs her fingers through her hair. Bellamy straightens up his clothes.   
“We were just-” He begins.   
“Bell, give me a break.” She puts her hands on her hips. “Nineteen years old, remember?”  
“Octavia, right?” Clarke holds out her hand. They shake. “I'm Clarke.”  
“So Clarke, tell me how my brother ended up luring you into this dark hallway,” Octavia asked.  
“I didn't lure her,” Bellamy mumbled.   
“I'm sorry you had to see that,” Clarke blushed. “We raced on the rink and I won and he got annoye-”  
“I won,” he interjected.  
“Sure you did,” she patted him on the shoulder.  
“I did!” he protested.  
“I approve of this.” Octavia smirked. Clarke laughed at his sister's bluntness.   
"You think that's funny, Princess?" He looks down at her, grinning.  
"Yes, I do." She answers with a matching smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!   
> I think this was more for me than you guys but I hope you all enjoyed it regardless :)
> 
> Come say hi to me on www.cheriemoss.tumblr.com


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